


Enough To Go By

by inksheddings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inksheddings/pseuds/inksheddings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is good at putting one foot in front of the other. Especially since he learned that, no, it doesn't have to mean that he's getting anywhere. It just means that as long as he's moving, he's alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough To Go By

** Enough To Go By **

 

Derek is good at putting one foot in front of the other. Especially since he learned that, no, it doesn't have to mean that he's getting anywhere. It just means that as long as he's moving, he's alive. 

"Sometimes it's enough," Laura had said, months after the fire, when Derek had finally broken down and asked how she could smile at him and ruffle his hair and send him to school with lunch money in his pocket. "We're alive and they would have wanted that. Sometimes it's enough."

"And when it's not?" he'd asked, hands stuffed defiantly in his pockets, clutching the quarters and dimes Laura had scrounged up for today's menu of grilled cheese and tater tots.

She didn't answer, just ruffled his hair and pushed him out the door.

Now, watching Isaac slather peanut butter and jelly on white bread, Derek pulls a five dollar bill out of his wallet and smacks the back of Isaac's head to get his attention.

"Pizza day, right?" Derek asks, holding out the money.

Derek doesn't smile and sure as hell isn't about to ruffle anyone's hair, but Isaac's strides are long and enthusiastic as he heads out the door to school.

It'll have to be enough.

 

*****

 

The Alpha pack sucked. Enough said about that, as far as Derek is concerned. But they're gone now, and physical wounds have healed and nobody's dead, Erica and Boyd included. Derek's already had a painfully long talk with the two of them, and somehow managed not to come off like an _I-told-you-so_ asshole, especially since he figured out he'd never told them much in the first place. Nothing that would have kept them loyal, kept them feeling safe and secure in their newly formed pack. Hopefully he's on his way to rectifying that.

But first things first.

His old burned out shell of a house is never going to be more than a burned out shell of a house. He even had a contractor over, and was told in no uncertain terms that retaining what was left wasn't a realistic option. Tearing it down and starting from scratch was the only safe route. Derek knew the guy was telling him the truth, had known it before he ever had him come out to give him his professional opinion, but hearing it laid out in unemotional yet understanding words had firmed Derek's resolve.

"This is my room?" Isaac asks, peering cautiously into the small bedroom, which is partially furnished with some semi-newish goods from Craigslist. 

"Yeah," Derek answers, trying to work out the unsettled emotions rolling off of Isaac. "Unless you'd rather have the room across the hall. It has a better view, I suppose, but it's smaller, so—"

"No!" Isaac insists, practically running into the room and turning so fast to face Derek he nearly loses his balance. "No, I like it. I just wasn't . . . "

"Wasn't what?"

Isaac looks around the room; at the off-white walls, at the beige carpet, and at the bed and desk that, presently, are its only pieces of furniture. He's not just looking at everything, he's also smiling at it all. "I wasn't expecting this."

Derek hears what Isaac's saying. Hears him loud and clear. 

After the Alpha pack, they'd gone back to lick their wounds at the depot station and Derek had looked at everyone—Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and even Peter—trying to get any decent rest on old blankets and ratty seat cushions without even a little bit of hot water or food that wasn't out of a take-out box. No wonder the Alpha pack had thought they'd be easy. 

This is just a double-wide in Beacon Hills one and only trailer park, but it has three bedrooms and the porch was converted into a fourth, so there's enough room for now. Boyd and Erica are still technically living with their parents, but they will always have a place here, too, whenever they want. And it's close enough to the old house for Derek to easily check on the place regularly. It's not a great house, but the expression on Isaac's face says it could be a home. 

Derek smiles back at Isaac and figures some posters would do a lot for Isaac's bare walls.

 

*****

 

There aren't too many churches in Beacon Hills. There are only three, to be exact. One Catholic, one Presbyterian, and one generic Christian. Derek's family had never attended services at any of them, but he loved the stained glass windows at St. John the Evangelist. Derek had seen them a few times with a Catholic childhood friend after Saturday night sleepovers. The one of John baptizing Christ in the Jordan River is Derek's favorite. Or, at least, it used to be. Before the idea of repentance took on new meaning in his life. Hell, took on any meaning. 

Derek is standing in front of the church. It's fairly early, and he's on his usual Tuesday morning grocery run. Driving past the church on his way to the nearby Safeway, he saw that the sun was hitting the church's windows just so, and he knew that if he went inside the Jordan River would be glowing as if lit up from the river's bottom. 

"Good morning, Mr. Hale."

Derek shakes his head slightly, surprised that he'd let himself drift enough that he didn't hear the Sheriff's approach. "Good morning, Sir."

Sheriff Stilinski is in uniform, but looks tired, like he's just getting off work rather than starting his day. He stands next to Derek and looks toward the church. "This your church?"

Derek is pretty sure that the Sheriff is aware of his non-existent church attendance, but ever since Derek's been cleared of murder and other mayhem the sheriff has actually taken to small talk whenever they run into each other. Which isn't often, granted, so those minutes of conversation are usually stilted and not always made up of complete sentences. Still, it's better than the sound of having his rights read. 

"No, it's not," Derek answers, not really sure what else he should say.

"Mine either," Sheriff Stilinski says. "But my wife went now and then, and Stiles was actually baptized here."

And twice in less than two minutes the sheriff has taken Derek by surprise. Family history was not in their usual repertoire of social niceties. 

"He howled and squirmed through the whole thing," the sheriff says with a laugh. 

"I like the windows," Derek blurts out, not sure why he's sharing this with anyone, let alone a man who's arrested him and whose son is still loud and squirmy and hard to handle on a good day. But as soon as the words are out of his mouth, Derek feels . . . fine. He feels fine. 

He looks at the sheriff, who's looking back at him like he,too, wasn't expecting any reciprocal conversation. 

"Well, I need to get to the store," Derek says and, what the hell, sticks his right hand out. 

The sheriff shakes his hand firmly and wishes him a good day before heading down the street.

Derek looks back at the church. The window of John and Jesus would still look spectacular if he went inside right now, but the urge has passed. 

At Safeway, Derek buys a bottle of Windex. He supposes he should clean his own windows now and then.

 

*****

 

Derek still isn't sure what to do with Scott McCall. They'd made peace long enough to deal with the Alphas. Granted, it had taken Isaac's fast-forming friendship with Scott and Stiles' way of getting under Derek's skin to keep them from coming to blows more than once, but it had worked. They had worked, and Derek would very much like Scott to come to his senses and officially join the pack. 

It's with no small amount of trepidation that Derek finds Scott sitting in his living room with Isaac one Saturday night. They're looking at something on Isaac's phone that has them in stitches, but they quiet down when Derek sits across from them on the easy chair. 

"Scott," Derek says by way of greeting.

"Derek."

Then they just stare at each other.

Isaac stands up. "Okay then! I'm going to take a shower and then me and Scott are going out."

Derek just nods as Scott looks at him like he's daring him to contradict Isaac's explanation of their evening's plans.

Isaac rolls his eyes and heads down the hall, muttering to himself. "I wish the two of you could just get drunk together and bro-bond already, Jesus Christ."

Scott's eyes widen and Derek smirks. It's never going to happen. Even if he and Scott ever worked their issues out they'd never "bro-bond," whatever the hell that's supposed to mean. But Isaac's ridiculous words do lighten the moment. Somewhat.

"Where are you two headed?" Derek asks, wincing at how much he sounds like the grown-up in the room. 

The look on Scott's face indicates Derek is about to get some smart ass answer. Saving the day—if Derek wants to look at it that way—are Erica and Boyd. Derek and Scott both know they're coming down what passes for a street in the trailer park.

Scott actually looks embarrassed when he says, "We're going out with Boyd and Erica. Stiles too. Get something to eat, maybe hit a movie." Scott shrugs. "No actual set plans."

Derek opens his mouth but has no clue what to actually say. He's used to Scott and Isaac hanging out, but this is nearly Derek's entire pack. He doesn't know how to feel about that, whether he should let his hope hold out a bit longer or smash Scott's face in for playing games he probably doesn't even know he's playing. 

Derek doesn't end up saying anything, because Boyd and Erica come inside and Scott greets them tentatively, like he's as unsure about this set up as Derek is. Boyd and Erica, however, are relaxed and already making themselves comfortable on the couch. 

"Chili cheese fries!" Erica yells. "Which means diner, no pizza. I'm sick of pizza."

"Yeah, they didn't put enough sauce on the crust last time," Boyd agrees.

"And too much cheese," Scott chimes in, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Which floors Derek. Just how long have they all been hanging out? And why didn't he know? Scott doesn't seem tentative now, which means he'd likely been unsure about Derek's reaction to the situation. Derek could feel it clearly now, Scott wasn't uncomfortable with Erica or Boyd at all. Which, wow, okay. 

"Man, you're insane," Boyd says to Scott. "Too much cheese? No such thing."

Scott looks ready to argue the point but Erica slaps a hand over each of their mouths. "Which is why we are going to the diner instead."

"Hey, all right, looks like we're ready to go," Isaac says as he enters the room, hair still damp.

Everyone gets up except for Derek, who is still too stunned to react how he'd like—if he even knew how he wanted to react, that is. But then everyone is saying good-bye, even Scott, and Derek realizes that maybe Scott will never be a part of Derek's pack but he's already a part of theirs— a part of Isaac's and Boyd's and Erica's. That's a fine little distinction but it's one Derek thinks he can live with, for now. 

Huh.

Derek guesses he doesn't have to do anything about Scott McCall after all.

 

*****

St. John's doors are open, and Derek realizes he hadn't actually considered that they wouldn't be. He'd have felt like an idiot tugging on locked doors, only wanting to finally get a look at that stained glass window. His boots sound loud on the concrete floor, so he tries to lighten his step. There doesn't seem to be anyone around anyway, until he sees one lone figure sitting in the pew closest to where Jesus is standing in the river Jordan, the water lapping at his knees.

"Stiles?" 

Stiles looks over, surprised. He stands up, sits back down, and settles on raising his hand in greeting. "Hey, Derek."

"What are you doing here?" Derek asks, then grimaces at his own abruptness. He's working on it, really. 

Stiles raises his eyebrows and bites out, "That's what you're going with?"

"Okay, yeah," Derek relents. "Not a place you probably expected to see me either." He enters the pew and sits down next to Stiles.

Stiles doesn't say anything else, which is unnerving. Derek wants to fill the silence but isn't sure what to say. He and Stiles actually get along okay, considering. He's not afraid to tell Derek to fuck off but he's also not too proud to tell Scott the same when it's his turn to be the ass of the pack. For all his hyperactivity, Stiles is actually pretty good at balancing everyone out. 

"Your dad told me you were baptized here," Derek says, suddenly remembering that short conversation from many months back.

"Yeah, that's-that's true. How'd you end up talking about that?" Stiles asks.

Derek shrugs. "It just kinda came up."

"Well, that makes it perfectly understandable," Stiles says, knocking his knee against Derek's before turning back toward the window.

Derek takes a deep breath but isn't annoyed, in all honesty. He just doesn't know how to make it not sound weird. So he just tells Stiles what he told the sheriff. "I like the stained glass."

Stiles keeps looking at the window, but Derek can feel him tense up next to him. Quietly, Stiles says, "So did my mom."

Derek doesn't breathe for a few seconds because, well, because. He thinks about the first time he'd come inside this church, with his friend David's family, and seen the windows; seen this particular window, with the sunlight pushing through and making the colors blend and brighten and how that, too, had taken his breath away. He remembers trying to describe it to his mom, certain he wasn't getting it right. Then his birthday came and she hung leaves of multi-colored glass in his window that sang in the breeze.

"Mine liked wind chimes," Derek says. 

Stiles' body relaxes. He leans a little closer and Derek breathes easily.

 

*****

"Sometimes it's enough," Laura had said. 

Only now Derek believes her.

 

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> Title very possibly stolen from Vienna Teng's song of the same name.


End file.
